I Hope You Find Me

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I Hope You Find Me Page 24

by Trish Marie Dawson


  The whole area was weirdly quiet, not even birds chirped from the trees. I hoped it would take a while before the others realized I was gone. I slowly approached the door of the back porch, straining to see inside the windows. It wasn't locked. Once inside, I pulled the gun from my waist band, and moved quickly through the rooms on the lower level, holding my arms out in front of me...just like Fin had taught me. The sound of a car door closing led me to the lobby. The open door flooded the entry way with yellow sunlight and I recognized two voices out front...Bobby and Alan.

  I slipped unseen around the waist-high counter and moved behind it, hunched forward until I could see out one of the front windows. The two men were loading a truck with bags and boxes. Bobby's hunting rifle was still slung over his shoulder and his face was such a dark crimson I was sure his blood pressure was going to blow his head clear off his pudgy neck. Alan looked no better; his glasses were missing and his greasy hair was stringy and plastered to his head with sweat. The dirty jeans he wore hung off his bony hips, exposing naked parts of his backside that I cringed upon seeing. Matt wasn't with them.

  A string of curse words went through my head while I squatted and leaned against the smooth surface of the check-in counter, letting the coolness of the particle board chill the hot skin of my back. The thumping sounds of Bobby's boots vibrated through the floorboards and I tried to flatten myself against the counter, hoping they didn't have a reason to look behind it.

  Alan's raspy voice spoke from just above my head. “He's fucking crazy, man. You know that, right?”

  “Shut up.” Bobby said tersely.

  Something heavy banged onto the counter and I jumped, biting down on the tip of my tongue. A strong odor filled my nostrils, and I clasped a hand over my mouth to keep from gagging. Gasoline.

  “Just saying. He's fucking lost it, man.” Alan squeaked, his voice a manic mixture of terror and excitement.

  “Boy, you better shut your mouth. We ain't got time!” Bobby hissed under his breath.

  Oh my god, I thought to myself, what are they planning on doing? Something metallic banged against one of the nearby walls and I jumped again. My foot slid out from under me and the sole of my shoe made a small squeak against the polished floor. I pressed myself into the flimsy particle board even harder, pain shooting into my shoulder blades. The swish of liquid splashed onto the top of the counter and cascaded over the side. Fat drops of gasoline dripped onto my shoulder and I attempted to lean away from it, horrified.

  “That's enough in here; it'll burn.” Bobby said, before throwing something against the wall.

  A rusty red can rolled along the ground into my view and my stomach lurched. When the sounds of their feet left the room I stood up and turned, ready to bolt out the back door, but stood face to face with Matt instead.

  ***

  He seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to find him standing in the middle of the lobby, his arms holding a large plastic crate full of canned food. Without hesitating, I raised the gun up level to his chest and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

  “Shit!”

  Matt took a step toward me, the sinister look in his eyes betraying the smile that curled his pale lips upward.

  “Don't move!” I barked at him. The safety, I had left the damn safety on.

  I inched around the counter, trying to fumble the safety switch off while keeping my eyes on Matt. When the hallway was behind me, I turned to run, and made it barely five feet before slipping in a puddle of fuel and landing on my back. The air expelled from my lungs like a popped balloon as dark stars filled my vision.

  A dull pain exploded through my right wrist as a tremendous pressure squeezed down on my hand and fingers, grinding them together. I tried to move my arm, but it was pinned to the ground by Matt's boot. I groaned in agony and released my grip on the pistol.

  “Good girl.” Matt said from above me.

  The room spun as he lifted his foot and yanked me up to a standing position. Toxic fumes filled my nose, and something sweet...Matt's breath. I wasn't sure what would make me pass out first: the gasoline that was dumped all over the room or the alcohol vapors escaping from his mouth.

  “Let...go...of me.” I struggled to talk as he slammed me against the wall, and held me there with his hand around my throat.

  “What were you going to do with your little gun, Riley?” He hissed in my ear.

  “Let go.”

  No matter how hard I pulled and pushed on his arm, it wouldn't budge. When he started digging his fingers deeper into my throat I began to panic and thrashed against the wall, too aware of how close his face was to mine.

  “Stop fighting, you can't get away.” He said flatly.

  No longer able to speak, I lifted a knee upwards as hard as I could, striking his left knee cap. He cursed and reciprocated by punching me in the stomach. My abdomen tightened in knots and the pain brought bile up my throat. I thought I was going to die from choking on my own vomit until Alan's shaky voice came from the front door.

  “What the hell?”

  “Go away.” Matt snapped, without turning to look at Alan.

  “What are you doing, man?”

  “I said go the fuck away!”

  Matt turned just enough to change the angle of his stance, and I tried again to slam my knee into his groin, but banged into his inner thigh instead. Not close enough.

  “Bitch!”

  Spittle flew from his lips as he slammed me against the wall, removing his hand just long enough for me to suck in one ragged breath before he shoved his arm against my chest, once again pinning me to the wooden paneling. A piece of molding broke off the wall behind me and clamored with a crash at my feet.

  Able to breathe, I drew air in greedily, my lungs hungry for oxygen. A zipping sound came from below me and I snapped my head up. Matt was tugging at the front of my jeans with his free hand.

  “No.” I squeaked, my voice barely audible.

  “Shut up. You know you want it.” I felt the fumble of his hand between us, and he managed to undo the button before shoving the top of my underwear down with his fingertips.

  “No, please stop.” Tears streamed down my cheeks and left dark spots on his sleeve as I thrashed frantically under his arm.

  “Matt!” Bobby's voice boomed from outside. “They're coming man, gotta go!” The sound of a car door slammed shut and an engine roared to life.

  Matt leaned against me, cursing. His unshaven face scraped my cheek and I heard the sound of his zipper close. Tears flowed freely from my eyes with relief. They're coming. I told myself. Connor and Fin...Jacks...they'll stop them. When Matt released me, he gave me a hard shove away from him and even though my body was stiff and sore, I rushed at the doorway and almost made it outside when a sudden heavy weight spread over the back of my head and a sharp pain rang through my ears. The last thing I saw was the light from outside shrinking into a far-away tunnel. And then...only darkness.

  ***

  Connor cursed himself as he sprinted up the path behind Fin. No one knew where Jacks and Ana were...big surprise there. What the hell was Riley thinking? Taking off with the cart. What was she planning on doing to Matt by herself? Fin slid on the trail ahead of him and he almost crashed into the burly man.

  “Damn, Fin!” Connor yelled.

  Zoey rushed past them, kicking up dust clouds with her small lab-spaniel feet. Kris and Winchester were somewhere behind them on the trail but he might as well have been in the whole damn woods alone. He had one thought. Where was she? As they rounded the last bend and the lawn opened up in front of them, Fin sprinted the incline easily putting ten, fifteen, twenty feet between them. Zoey yelped and barked at the side of the building, like something spooked her, and she ran in a wide arc away from the shrubbery that lined the wooden structure.

  The damn shade tree on the lawn was blocking his view. Fin was already off the grassy area and running after the dog. As Connor passed underneath the giant oak he saw why she feared the buildin
g. The entire south side of the lodge was engulfed in a massive wall of flames.

  “Oh fuck!” He panted.

  He could hear Kris cry out behind him, but he kept running. The dog and Fin had rounded the front of the lodge and were out of sight. He ran up the drive way, just as they had, putting plenty of room between himself and the fire which had quickly spread to the roof.

  “Riley!” He screamed her name at the lodge.

  He heard the screech of tires peeling out away from the lodge, heading towards the long gravel driveway that led to the highway. Zoey was in hot pursuit, barking madly at the truck as it rapidly shrank in size. He jumped when Fin ran at him from his left, from the front of the building.

  “They torched it!” He exhaled loudly, and waved his arms in the direction of the fleeing truck. “They took her!” Fin bent forward, leaning into his knees and heaved.

  “What?” Connor stared at him, not understanding.

  “They took her!” Fin stood and pointed down the driveway. The truck seemed to slow before turning to the right and then it was gone. “Did you hear me? That asshole has Riley!” The veins in Fin's forehead popped out and he cursed, kicking up a cloud of dust.

  “How do you know?”

  “Damn it Connor. I saw Matt carry her, and put her in the back seat!” Fin swore a string of curse words into the sky.

  Connor bolted for his truck and slid to a stop half way there. “Oh Jesus.” He spun around and collided into Fin's chest. “I don't have the keys. They're at the cabin.”

  “God damn it!” Fin screamed.

  “Fin!” Connor ran over to Riley's Jeep and peered inside, looking for keys. Nothing. “Search the other cars!” He yelled.

  Winchester ran up behind them, “Skip's...take Skip's truck!”

  Fin ran up to the passenger side and banged his hands down on the roof, “Yes! Keys! Let's go!” Connor pushed him aside and pointed for him to drive. He knew the roads better. Connor whistled out the passenger window when he saw the black dog and the dust that enveloped her like a cloudy aura rushing back to them. Fin slowed to a crawl and after pulling Zoey up into the cab, the tires spun, kicking up dirt and small rocks as Fin floored the old Chevy up the driveway.

  In the side mirror, Connor looked at the reflection of the lodge. Fire flicked at the glass from inside the lobby. Dark smoke poured out in coils from under the roof, which meant the fire had spread to the second floor. Before he looked away, he saw Winchester and Skip pulling a garden hose out and aiming it at the front door. It was no use. Connor knew it was hopeless.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mommy? Mommy, wake up.

  Baby, it's too early. Go back to bed.

  Mommy? I had a bad dream, can I sleep with you? Please?

  Shannon, you slept with Mommy last night...remember?

  Mommy…please?

  Mommy, wake up. Wake up!

  My eyes fluttered open. “I'm...awake.” I groaned, bringing my hands to the back of my head. They came back wet with bright red blood. “What?” I blinked, but my eyes wouldn't open all the way.

  “Dude, she's awake!”

  I bristled, trying to focus on the bright light with flying shadows above my head. “Where...?” I tried to sit up, but a hand pushed me down. And then I remembered. Matt slamming me against the wall. Matt choking me. Something hitting the back of my head. And then what? I couldn't remember how I got wherever I was.

  Rubber squealed and I slid into something hard. A door. A car door. I tried to sit up again, this time kicking at the soft person that sat near my feet. I was able to right myself and flattened my back into the small cab window. Not a car, a truck. The shadows outside were trees. And we were shooting past them at speeds I was sure not even the local highway patrol had ever matched on the winding high-elevation road.

  Alan sat to my left, smashed up against his own car door, watching me with horror. I wasn't sure if I should kick him or Matt, who was driving. Bobby turned around from the front passenger seat and poked at me with the end of his rifle.

  “Don't try anything, sweetheart. Be a good passenger now.”

  His red face was covered in a layer of sweat and he smelled foul, like he had soiled himself. I brought my knees up to my chest and opened my mouth to speak.

  “Stop, stop and let me out. I'll walk back. You can just...leave.” Only a whisper of my voice was left.

  Bobby looked over at Matt, who was driving so wildly that the tires repeatedly went off the asphalt and tore along the narrow dirt shoulder. A low hanging tree branch hit the passenger side of the truck and I flinched. If he kept driving like this, he was going to kill us all.

  “At least slow down, please, Matt.” I tried to sound calm, but my mousy voice squeaked like a rusty wheel. I rubbed at my throat and swallowed.

  “I don't know why you took her, man. Just open the door and I'll shove her out.” Alan was gripping what my Mom used to call the 'Oh Shit' handle above his head. I glared at him and grabbed my own handle, holding on for dear life as the truck leaned, lurched and skidded along the highway barely making the turns while staying on the road.

  “Alan, shut your damn klepto mouth, or I'll throw you out of this fucking truck!” Matt's eyes were wild when he looked over his shoulder and both Bobby and I screamed at him to watch the road. The truck slid onto soft ground and gravel spat into the air, pelting the windows like hail.

  “Oh my god.” I said quietly.

  “This is your fault, you know.” Matt glanced back at me.

  “W-What?” I stared at him incredulous. Another branch slapped the hood of the car and dug a scratch down the side. The shrill sound reminded me of nails on a chalkboard and I shook off a chill.

  “All of this.” He muttered, his eyes darting across the road, then over his shoulder. “This wouldn't have happened if not for you.”

  Alan squirmed and took hold of the handle with both hands. I fumbled around my legs for the seat belt and couldn't find it. I dug my fingers into the gaps between the cushions and eventually found the buckle on my left. Matt braked so forcibly that both Alan and I slammed violently into the front seats. As I scrambled backwards a small laugh escaped my lips. I looked at Alan and thought to myself, So much for the 'Oh Shit' handle. His normally pallid face was an even lighter shade of pale, making him look ghostly.

  “Matt, slow down, man!” Bobby hissed. His stench filled the cabin and mixed with the pungent smell of my gasoline soaked clothes to combine a vomit-worthy redolence.

  “All your fault…all your fault.” Matt muttered over and over to himself.

  We hit an open stretch of road and he floored it, hitting almost 100 mph before slamming on the brakes to make a turn.

  He laughed bitterly. “You know, Mariah would still be here if it weren't for you and that asshole.”

  My mouth hung open. “Mariah?”

  “Don't.” Alan warned me, his dark eyes the size of saucers.

  Matt looked crazed as he glanced into the rear-view mirror. He snapped, “Alan, why don't you tell the story. You were there after-all, weren't you?”

  I gaped at Alan. “What? Where is she?” My voice, though still hoarse, was recovering some of its force. When he didn't answer me, I kicked him.

  “Okay!” He shrank back against the door, once again with a death grip on the handle on the roof. “It was all of us...or her.” His voice was tiny and weak.

  Matt took a turn too fast and I was tossed from my seat into Alan’s lap. I pushed myself off him in disgust and began fumbling for my seat belt again.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.” My fingers found the buckle again. I ran my right hand up the side of my seat, digging between the cushion and the door. Where the hell is the seat belt!? I screamed in my head.

  “Um.” He paused to look at Matt and Bobby, who had pressed himself so far away from Matt that even his rolls looked tiny in his seat. “We stumbled upon Matt and Mariah in L.A. These two guys rushed our car at gunpoint at an intersection and forced us a
ll onto the street.” He looked down at his knees. They were shaking. “They said...they said they wanted her. And they'd let us go.” He looked at me sharply and added as an afterthought, “They would have killed all of us if he didn't do it. We owe Matt our lives.” He stared back down at his knees.

  Terror ran through me as I looked from Alan to Bobby, and focused on the back of Matt's neck. “Oh my god.” I clamped a shaky hand over my mouth, imagining what Mariah’s abductors would have done to her.

  “And you let her go? Your sister.” I flung the words at Matt like knives.

  His head jerked around and he swung his right hand in my direction. A long-barreled revolver shook in his grip. He screamed at me, “You bitch! I told her we shouldn't go to Nevada! You and that bastard kicked us out, remember? We had nowhere else to go. We could have stayed there, we could have stayed and she'd be here!”

  I shook my head at him in terror. “We didn't kick you out Matt, you left.” I said quietly.

  “Shut up! Shut up! That asshole jumped me; he made it clear we couldn't stay!” The revolver trembled as Matt struggled to keep the truck on the road with one hand on the steering wheel.

  “Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Matt.” I felt the rough edge of the seat belt with my fingers and yanked at it, but it was wedged too deeply behind the cushion. I would need both hands, which meant I would have to turn my back on Matt's revolver...something I couldn't do. I didn't have to look at Alan to know the sniffling noise I heard was him crying.

 

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